Visitors
by kse93
Summary: AU: Emma Swan has wanted to visit Ireland her entire life. When she finally arrives, the manor she's staying at isn't quite what it seems.
1. Prolouge

**Visitors** (1/?)

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Emma Swan has wanted to visit Ireland her entire life. When she finally arrives, the manor she's staying at isn't quite what it seems.

* * *

A TV played at a low level, an old woman was barely watching it with her focus on the young blonde next to her.

She grinned softly at her. Mrs. Lucas always loved little Emma. From what she heard, the poor girl was bounced around from house to house in foster care. A little less than a month ago, her dreadful son had taken her in. She knew he was simply using the fact he brought in a foster child to brighten his image at his law firm. All her life she tried to lead her boy in a good direction, but he seemed to take after his father.

Since Emma had arrived, her son had constantly used the girl to watch over her. Apparently, spending time with his sick mother was more than he could be bothered with. She wanted so much more for her, and she hoped when she went, that the girl would be loved by someone who deserved her. Mrs. Lucas loved young Emma as much as her own.

"Have I ever told you about my time in Ireland?"

Emma looked up from the book cradled in her hands with wide eyes, as she sat next to the hospital bed. She shook her head and the old woman proceeded.

"Oh, it's a gorgeous place. Do you remember the golden book I brought for you all?"

"Was that the one with the fairy tales?"

A wide smile graced her, "Yes, my dear. It was. I spent 6 summers in Killarney. A wonderful place. It looked exactly that the setting for those stories."

The Mrs. Lucas started coughing hard and wetly. Emma rose from her seat and got the woman water from the pitcher across the room. She handed her the glass with a frightened look in her eyes.

"I'm alright dear, just a scratchy throat," she said after taking a few gulps. "Now, get up here and I'll tell you the wonders of it."

Emma sat her book in her chair and climbed into bed. She sat herself next to the old woman who then took her in her arms.

"Nearly all the buildings in the town were built way, back when. Some of the oldest ones were made of stone; just like castles. They had horses who could take you from place to place too."

The girl's eyes sparkled with amazement, "With a carriage? Like a princess!?"

She chuckled at her excitement, "Yes, like a princess. It had green bushes everywhere. And the flowers! The most gorgeous things I've ever seen."

Emma listened intently at her stories. Telling her about the old stone buildings, how some of the roadways were still dirt, the vastness of the fields.

"I wish one day you'll be able to experience it for yourself." She brought her frail hand to cup the young blonde's face. "Why don't you bring me your book and I can read the rest of it to you?"

The girl hopped off the bed and went to retrieve her book. Mrs. Lucas' hoped one day for her to have the best days of her life there, much like she did.


	2. Chapter 1

**Visitors **(1/?)

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Emma Swan has wanted to visit Ireland her entire life. When she finally arrives, the manor she's staying at isn't quite what it seems.

* * *

She doesn't know what drew her to walk the halls of this place. She had every intention of simply going to sleep and starting fresh the next day. Something was calling to her though, like it wanted to be found.

She dragged her fingertips over the textured paper that lined the walls. Dark purple with twirling black curves traveled beneath them. It felt as if it was whispering to her through touch. Can that even happen?

It had always been her dream to go to Ireland. She remembers her one of her former foster's family's grandmother telling her stories of her time in Killarney, the best summers of her life she said. The gorgeous greens that surrounded everywhere, it was like stepping into a fairytale book.

So throughout her life it was always one of Emma's goals to make her way to the country. When she turned 25, she'd finally bused enough tables and dealt with enough unruly men who smacked her ass to make decent amount of money to travel.

She didn't make it to Killarney exactly, but a just a small village in Southern Ireland. She feels as if it all looks the same though. It was exactly as her the old woman had told her, luscious green fields, illimitable lakes, pebbled walkways. It was stunning.

This B&B though, she couldn't describe the feeling. When she first saw it online, she knew that's where she was staying. Hell, that's why she chose this random village, and now that she was here, she felt needed.

Emma looked to the end of the dim hallway. A faint light outline of a child appeared out of nowhere. She started walking towards it quicker till she was running down the hallway. There were no features to it, just the bare marking of a body. As she closed the distance between them, the light got stronger. The figure moved as she neared it, turning to its left and moving past the intersection of hallways. As she round the corner, her body collided with another.

"Woah, you alright there lass?"

She looked up and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen appeared before her.

"Yeah, I uh. I thought I saw something."

"I can assure you, you and I are the only ones in this hallway right now."

She realized his hands were still around her arms from when he stopped her. When she stepped about of his grasp, she finally got a good at him.

His hair looked like it had just been tousled by his hand, a nice auburn stubble covering his jaw. Her eyes had admittedly been drawn to the fact his shirt was undone by a few buttons, she could see the faint cast of hair on his chest.

She shook her head lightly when she realized she'd been staring. "I guess I just have worse jet lag than I thought," she said chuckling.

"And I'm sure you're our newest guest. From the likes of your accent, I'm guessing American?"

"You guessed right. Are you staying here too?"

"Ah, no. Killian Jones. I work here," he said extending a hand.

"Emma Swan."

When they touched hands, it felt as if a spark shot between them. She took her hand away quickly, unnerved by everything going on.

"Right. Well, I obviously need some sleep. Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, Emma Swan." He said curtly nodding his head.

His gaze never left her eyes as she left, and she could still feel it as she walked down the corridor. She also still felt the imprint of his hand in hers. Shaking her hand to get the tingly feeling out, she padded back to her room, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next morning seemed to be a struggle for Emma. Tossing and turning all night due to weird dreams wasn't exactly the norm.

Getting up and ready for the day, she could only think about the tales from the night. She saw images of a woman with long brown hair, crying as she walked down the hallway of a castle. A man reading a note is his bedroom as he began weeping. A woman in a red cape trying to calm down to the other woman seemed to be in a manic state.

She had no idea who these people were. Never met them a day in her life. They say you only dream of faces you've seen. Maybe she passed by them in the streets of Boston?

The feeling of the dreams stayed with her though. For as long as she could remember, dreams never impacted her like this. Sure, a few shaky moments after she got up, but this stayed. The loss and heartbreak she felt nearly broke her. Emma shook her head as she entered the kitchen of the manor.

The room was nicely sized. It had an old, Victorian style stove that looked like it had been around before the house. The floors had a nice tan tile and redwood cabinets lined the walls. It had a nice homey feeling to it, something she felt was lacking in other areas of the lot.

"Morning, Swan." Killian was at the stove cooking up what seemed to look like a good meal. Sausages, eggs, toast, hash, and fruits covered one of the long tables.

"You're the chef too?" She questioned.

"I'm the caretaker for place," he said turning around and putting a plate of bacon on the table as his arm grazed hers.

"Thanks," she said a small smile.

She filled her plate with food and sat down at the table as did he.

"So, what exactly do you do here?" Emma asked.

"Whatever is needed around the lot. The owner, Mrs. O'Donnelly, only has the house." Killian was already digging into the food he got for himself. "She doesn't have much money to invest in other workers. So on slow times such as now, she only has me working."

"Summer is a slow time around here?" Emma's eyes furrowed as she began to eat her food. She had to give it to the man, he knew how to cook.

"Winter is usually our best time. The locales decorate the whole village. There are fairy lights hanging everywhere, red ribbons attached to anything they can be put on, it's truly breath taking." A soft smile came across is face as he was talking of fond memories. "The town a few kilometers south has a Christmas market every year that draws some tourism. We usually get the overflow from them."

Looking around her Emma noticed there were no other guests in the room.

"Am I the only person staying here?"

"We have a few others but 2 are checking out today and the other couple already left."

They were making light conversation when Emma noticed the same light shape of a child in the doorway to the left of the room. She blinked a few times with a disoriented look.

"Still tired, Swan?"

Once she looked to Killian and back again, it was gone. "Yeah, I guess I am." She said unsurely. "Thank you for all this. It was really good. I think I'm gonna go lay down for some more though," she said to him, who was cleaning up the table.

"It's not a problem, just go rest," he replied with a smile.

The stupid childlike thing showed up again. What the hell is going on? Maybe she really is just tired.

Once she got back to her room, she lay down and went back to sleep.

* * *

Emma woke up at around 2 PM feeling better than she had when she arrived.

Deciding to get a good look of the place, she walked to the bathroom, splashed some cold water on her face and left her room.

The manor was larger than one would think. It had 2 living rooms, a family room, a dining room, kitchen, basement, an attic, 9 bedrooms. Hell, her bedroom here was bigger than her last apartment in Boston.

It was all gorgeous as well. It had a nice Victorian feel too it. Dark oak covered the floors and dark wallpapers throughout. It oddly reminded her of the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland.

Finding her way back to the main floor of the house, she found the mini library of the place. Each wall had a bookshelf that was from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. There was a fireplace on the right wall with a large mirror above it. Two couches sat in the middle of the floor with a large accent rug underneath them. The wall facing the eastern garden of the house had a large bay window with a plush bench with it. She still couldn't believe she was staying in a place that had a freaking small library.

Going to the first bookshelf on her right, Emma started looking through the books within it. Dragging her finger along the bindings, she saw a lot of the books weren't even in English. They featured a variety of languages, Welsh, German, French, Russian, Italian. Most of the books were cracking, had to be over 80 years old at the least.

Grabbing one book from the second bookshelf, she flung it open in her hands. The pages were a browned with aged, some of the text so faded she couldn't even read. Slamming the book shut, a cloud of dust flew from it. Coughing the get it out of her lungs, she put the book away and wiped her hands across her pants.

Walking over to the bay window, the blonde sat into one of the corners, snuggling into one of the pillows. Looking out to the view in front of her, she sighed in contentment.

"Enjoying the scenery, lass?"

She turned her head to see Killian coming into the room, holding a basket full of cleaning supplies.

"It's really beautiful. We don't have a lot of views like this in Boston."

"What? They have no terraces there?" He sat the supplies down on the coffee table between the couches as he made his way towards her.

"Not where I live. Although, I have a pretty great view of the city," she said letting out a breath. "Nothing like this though."

"Barbarians."

They both chuckled as he sat down on the seat across from her, admiring the view as she was.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she glanced to the left view of the garden. She saw a faded outline of an elm tree coming into view. The more the image came to her, the more details she could see. Something was dangling from one of the lower branches of the tree. A body.

She gasped loudly and a pillow fell from the bench.

"Swan?" He asked with furrowed brows. "Are you alright? You look stark as a sheet?"

She tree suddenly vanished from her view. Turning to Killian she saw the confusion in his eyes. "Yeah, just a headache started coming on. The lights hurting it a little bit."

Emma scrambled off of the bench walking away from the window. What the hell was that? Things fading from her vision? Maybe she was losing her mind.

"Do you need anything? I think we have some medication in our first aid."

"I'll be fine. I think I'm just gonna go check my email," she said lamely.

She walked out of the room quickly, couldn't leaving it fast enough. Leaving a baffled Killian in her wake.

* * *

Emma sat up in her bed in a trance. Voices hummed in her ears, her body propelling itself out of the bed.

She walked out of her room, going in a daze. Her feet were guiding her to a place she didn't know. It was like she couldn't stop herself. The only way she knew she was moving was the feel of the cold wood beneath her feet.

She walked up the stairs to find herself in the attic of the manor. The room was large with stuff that had been collected over the years. Boxes littered the floor with cobwebs covering the tops of them. A few full size mirrors with grandiose frames. Dust covered every inch of the room, causing an almost gritty look to the air.

Emma found herself in front of the window that looked over the front of the house. The garden that was there was replaced by open field.

She saw four men out in the middle of the area. They were dressed like princes and knights. Two of the men were holding one while the oldest of them was standing in front of them.

She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could see the man in the middle struggling to get free. The knights holding him started throwing punches, hitting the man hard. While the older man stood there doing nothing about it.

Blood started running down the man's face, she wanted to scream for help but her throat closed in on her. When she saw the final punch, she knew that was it. That the man was dead.

Tears were brought to her eyes as she saw the knights stringing his body up on the tree in the field. Looking like a message to other people.

Suddenly, the scene faded away and it was the garden in front of her again. What the hell was going on? Why did she feel so badly for this man? How was she seeing any of this?

She suddenly realized he was the man from her dream. The one weeping from a letter. Her eyes went wide with recognition. When she backed away from the window, she sat back on a box she bumped into. She was starting to calm down when she heard the floorboards creak behind her.

Emma knew better than to call out; she wasn't some stupid person in a horror movie. She looked around the room for the door she came through.

"They killed me."

She whipped her head around to where she heard the voice and stood up quickly. Out of the shadows came a pale man, bruises scattered across his body. Blood stains were vibrant against his white shirt, still wet as if they were freshly made. He had bloody wound on his forehead, a trail streaming from the corner of his mouth and a scar around his neck. She screamed at the sight of him.

"They told me I couldn't love her. That I could only marry one," the man said walking towards her.

Emma was trembling with fear and need to get out of there. She started walking backwards, feeling her surroundings with her hands.

"I had to be a prince. I didn't care about that. I only cared about love. And I loved her. Wanted to worship her." His eyes were such a vibrant blue, filled with such pain and agony.

Silent tears fell down her face. She didn't know what the hell was happening or why it was to her. All she knew was she needed to get out of there.

She tripped on a box she didn't see and fell to the floor. She couldn't bring herself to turn away from the beaten man so she started crawling backwards. Emma looked behind her to see the door was only a few feet away.

"Look at me!" The man yelled when her head turned. "I need her. I never got to tell her how much I love her. Never got to hold her. You can help. You're our savior."

"I'm not a savior. I can't do anything." She shook her head, her voice quivering in fear.

His face went from desperate to crazy as he started to yell. "Help me! Bring her back! You're the only one!"

Emma's back finally hit the door and she sprang to her feet. Turning around she grasped the handle to open the door, only to find it was locked.

"No! Let me out!" She started frantically screaming and beating on the door. "Someone please help me! Get me out! Help!"

After what seemed like hours, the door opened and she fell into a pair of strong arms.

"Emma?"

She looked up to see Killian was the one holding her. Finally feeling safe, she let the tears fall. She was shaking so hard she felt sick.

"It's alright, love. I've got you." Killian held her, rubbing her arms in a soothing way.

"He's coming after me. He's still here," she wept into his shoulder.

He looked up from her face, but only saw a cluttered attic in front of them. "There's no one there."

She shook her head and only started to tremble harder. Killian squeezed his arms around her whispering reassurances too her.

After some time, Emma heard his voice speaking to her softly. "How about we go get you some tea, yeah?"

Once she had finally settled down some and was able to nod. He kept his arms around and moved her away from the attic, closing the door behind them.


	3. Chapter 2

**Visitors (2/?)**

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Emma Swan has wanted to visit Ireland her entire life. When she finally arrives, the manor she's staying at isn't quite what it seems.

Big, big thank you too Can't-Escape-My-Fandoms for helping me out with this chapter. Couldn't do it without you :)

* * *

Still slightly trembling, Emma's hands shook on the table. After her encounter in the attic, Killian brought her down to the kitchen where he sat her down in one of the chairs and started puttering around the room.

Emma sat there just staring at her hands. Dust and grime covered them, giving them a slight grey color. She noticed a small cut on her hand from when she tripped. What the hell had even happened up there? Was he a ghost? Why'd he come to her?

When the kettle started to shriek, she jumped at the noise.

Killian got to it quickly and started making their tea. A minute later he passed her a steaming mug with a brown liquid in it.

"Are you going to tell me what happened up there?"

She shook her head no as she let the warm steam from the tea encompass her.

"You've cut your hand," he said after he noticed it when she picked up her mug.

Before she could utter a word, he rose from the table and left the room. Not two minutes later, he was back with a first aid kit, a wash cloth, and a bowl in his hands.

Setting the kit and the bowl on the table, he sat back down in front of her.

She wordlessly set her hand down with the cut in front of him.

He took the wash cloth and wet it with the water from the bowl and gently cleaned the dirt from her hand. He applied some ointment to the cut and put a bandage on it. Without even realizing, his thumb was grazing the area, soothing her in a way.

She took her hand away and he cleaned up the stuff he had used. When he was done he sat back at the table with her.

Emma couldn't really tell him what happened up there when she didn't quite know herself. She was brought up there without knowing it and saw some crazy scene happen before her. Bringing the mug to her, she swallowed down some of the tea. Feeling the warmth flow into her and seep into her bones.

"Well if you do want to talk to someone, I'll be here."

Looking up from her cup, Emma saw the truth in his eyes. She'd always been able to tell when people were lying to her; her secret weapon she'd like to call it. And yet, there was no judgment in his eyes.

"I saw someone," she said after a few minutes of silence. "He looked so real. Sounded real. And the tree, I thought…"

He furrowed his brows at that. "Tree? What tree?"

"I saw something when I was up there," the blonde said after taking a large breath. "It looked like a big elm tree was in the front yard, with a body hanging from it."

"As long as I can remember, there hasn't been a tree there. Or anybody who's died here."

Emma scoffed at him. "What? You think it was a ghost? Ghosts aren't real."

"Just because you haven't experienced something doesn't make it not real."

His blue eyes were looking at her with such emotion she had to look away. Peering down into her mug, she saw the tea leaves collecting at the bottom.

"So, you've had experiences in ghosts then?" Emma asked Killian.

Finishing off his mug, he set his mug on the table as he started to get up. "No, but some of my friends have. And I believe them. Why don't we go to the archive center tomorrow and look at the file of this place?"

"You think they'll have something?"

"Not sure, but we could try. This village has been around for a few hundred years. If there's going to be anything about this house, it'll be there." Killian took her mug as well and then walked over to the sink and cleaned the cups out.

"Ok good," Emma got from her seat and started to walk out of the room. She stopped herself and turned back around to face him. "Thank you for this."

"Just taking you somewhere, lass." He replied drying the mugs with a towel.

"No, I meant for everything. You didn't…act like I was crazy or anything. Which even I can't really say I'm not right now."

He nodded while setting down the cups. "Things happen in life. You can either fight them or," he hesitated finishing his sentence. "Or you can deal with them. And I'm choosing the latter."

Emma noticed the pause when he spoke. She figured something happened where he had to make a decision like this, but decided not to prod at it. "Well, thank you anyways. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Swan."

* * *

The next morning Emma woke up without a problem. No crazy dreams or weird ghost things coming after her.

Sitting up in her bed, she took in the bedroom around her. The large plush bed beneath her was covered in dark blue cotton sheets and had a gold comforter to fit. It was one of the comfiest beds she'd ever slept in.

The walls of her room were a dark red with velvet pinstripes that went vertically down. Dark oak floors covered and darkened wood furniture to match. She loved the Baroque wardrobe that was in the room, it had intricate carvings on the doors covered in gold. She had spent at least 5 minutes just running her fingers over it when she had first arrived.

Emma decided she finally needed to greet the day so she got out of bed, got dressed and headed downstairs for food.

Before entering the kitchen, the blonde felt a wave of worry go over her. She'd never broken down in front of someone like she did yesterday. Bouncing from foster home to foster home taught her one thing, to hide as much as you could. She realized early on that most, if not all the parents, didn't really care about her. No matter how much she would cry over something, they'd simply shun her out of the way; because all she ever was, was an inconvenience and a paycheck. She learned that hiding and covering your emotions was easier.

The only person she had let her walls around since then was Neal. And after him, they came back up with a vengeance.

Taking a deep breath and counting to 10, Emma walked into the kitchen to see a table set with two plates and food surrounding them.

"Oh good you're up. I was beginning to think you'd sleep the morning away." Killian set down a plate of bacon then turning to grab pitchers from the fridge.

"Uh, yeah. Almost didn't want to get out of bed. It's way comfier than mine at home," she said awkwardly.

She sat down at the table while he took the seat across from her. He started piling food on his plate when he noticed Emma staring at him.

"Something on your mind, lass?"

Her face contorted into a confused look. "Seriously? Nothing?"

He raised his eyebrow questioningly as he began eating his cooked potatoes.

"I mean, you're not going to bring it up at all? Everything's normal?"

He nodded when he finally realized. "You mean why aren't I looking at you like you're mental, after last night?"

"Well…yeah," she finished lamely.

"Because that's what you're thinking right now. That your mind is playing tricks on you and you can't possibly be sane."

Her mouth fell slightly open at his assessment.

"You're quite the open book, Swan."

"Not sure I'd say that." She furrowed her eyebrows as she gathered food on her plate.

He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with his napkin before continuing. "Look, odd occurrences happen all the time. True, a lot of what you hear are from people who should be getting more help than most. But there are some that are telling the truth. Like I believe you are."

He stared at her with such a knowingness she had to break eye contact.

"And like I said, this is an old house. I'd honestly be surprised if there wasn't some mystery behind it."

Emma had a small smile on her face. She knew he was trying to make this easier on her. Whether it was working or not remains to be seen. "Thanks."

"Eat up. We should probably head into town in about 2 hours," he said nodding to her food.

"Wait, town?"

"I thought we talked about going to the archive center last night."

"I…didn't know you were serious."

"Very." He finished his food and began to get up from the table when a big smile came across his face. "It seems we're in for something of an adventure. Get excited, Swan."

She shook her head and chuckled quietly at him. He seemed like a kid going to Disneyland for the first time. She had to admit though, his enthusiasm was helping her.

* * *

A few hours later, Emma and Killian were leaving the house to drive into town.

Walking out to the drive way, she saw an older car that looked like it was from the 60s. It was dark blue and was impeccably clean. Looks like someone had a baby.

"What kind of car is this?"

He gaped at her like she'd grown a second head. "It's a Rover P6 3500. It's a classic."

"Sorry, don't know European cars." She shrugged and stopped a giggle at his face.

She was going for the passenger side of the car when she noticed he was closely behind her. She thought he going to open the door for her or something. She quickly opened the door to hear him chuckling. About to question him when she looked into the car and noticed the wheel was on her side. She slammed the door and stomped over to the other side.

He was still laughing having not even gotten into the car yet.

"Oh, shut up. Most of the world drives on the right hand side you know."

The Irishman was still chuckling as they drove away.

It really did look like a fairytale town. There wasn't the cobblestone or dirt roads like she might have imagined, but everything else seemed true.

Houses lined the streets all right next to each other. Big buildings where it looked like they all shared one wall together: each place having two windows in the front and what looked like a small backyard. She could see from a distance there were a few cottages and farms. Driving nearer into town, the closer they got to the shops and town square.

Places here were so different from the big cities. No Starbucks or McDonalds. Local shops were everywhere rather than big business shoved down your throat. They passed by a few boutiques and bakeries she would have to ask Killian about later.

Passing the center of the town, Emma noticed how many people were out or simply left their doors open. A sense of community.

"So, does everyone know everyone around here?"

"More or less. Most people have lived here their entire lives or moved back. Not everyone loves the hustle and bustle of a city," Killian said pulling into a parking spot.

He opened the door for her as they walked to the entrance. Something she wasn't going to focus too hard on.

Walking up to the main counter, Emma saw a man with glasses sitting at the front.

"How may I help you both?"

"We wanted to look into George Manor. I was hoping you'd have something on it, Mr. Glass." Killian asked.

"Let me check…" was typing into the computer before him when a brunette woman walked into the room.

"Just let them in, Sidney. I think we have a few things."

Killian nodded towards her. "Ah, Ms. Mills."

"Mr. Jones and?" She said extending a hand.

"Emma Swan," shaking her hand in reply.

"I'll pull out the files, you can seat yourselves over at that table." She left the room through a doorway near the back.

They both went through the entry way at the side of the desk and sat at the table she gestured them too.

Ms. Mills walked into the room with four large file folders all looking about a pound each. Emma's eyes widened at the sight. "This is everything?"

"Yes. It's been there for quite a long time, Ms. Swan. And the people around here value it's integrity. So, they document everything. If that's all I have something to attend too."

Killian thanked her as she left the room.

Emma noticed the softness in his eyes as he spoke to the woman. "Did you guys ever?"

He laughed lightly at the thought. "No, never. She helped me out a year ago though." Not wanting to divulge much more, he changed the topic quickly. "Which one do you want first, lass?"

The blonde grabbed the first folder in front of her. She looked at the glanced through the first few pages of paper when she noticed something. "Are these not in order by year?"

"I guess not. So?" Killian asked after looking through some of his file.

Emma have him a dubious look. "Because these are going to take forever to go through."

"Well, good thing I'm here then. I'm sure we'll make a good team."

His wide smile may or may not have helped ease some of her grouchiness.

After around two hours of reading, Emma wanted to bang her head on the table. Some of the stories in the file were just reviews of the B&B, others seemed just like stories one made up while staying there. Yet, nothing of ghosts or anything else of the sort.

She huffed while resting her head on her arms.

"Found nothing yet, Swan?"

"Sure, if you consider" she raised her head and grabbed one of the papers in front of her. "Reviews written by people who can form sentences as well as 8 year olds."

"Oh, come on now. Reading," he leaned over and grabbed one of the papers she had in her folder. "This review from, 'Mrs. Alcott' saying 'Thank you for the beautiful B&B, my husband and I spent three nights of ecstasy in our room.'"

Emma made a disgusted sound. "Ugh, that was the one I tried to avoid."

The Irishman snickered. "Why don't I go get us a couple of burgers? Should be around lunch time."

"Sure. I could eat."

He set his papers down, shooting her a quick smile before heading out.

Emma had noticed an apparent ease around him. Something she never experienced with other people. She was constantly waiting for someone to wrong her or just wanted to be alone. Always figured no one wanted her to be there anyways. But with Killian it was different.

She'd only known him two days, and in those days she had broken down crying I front of him. He didn't judge her when he found out why, he simply nodded and tried to help her. Even Neal said she was crazy when she told him about her, 'super power'.

She sighed heavily and went back to the papers in front of her.

Seriously, though? Who taught these people grammar in school?

30 minutes later, Killian walked into the building with four bags of food and four drinks in a carrier. He brought one of the bags to Sidney at the front desk and one to Ms. Mills' office.

He gave her bag and a paper cup filled with soda. Plopping down in his own seat, he had a smirk on his face.

"Why do you look just got away with something?" The blonde asked opening her burger wrapper and pouring her fries on it.

"I was able to charm Ashley, the young lady at the burger place into giving me extra pickles. Guess a smile and wink can get you anywhere," he said of course demonstrating to her.

She scoffed at him acting like it would never work on her. Because, you know it totally did not.

"Find anything knew, lass?" Killian asked taking a big bite of his burger.

The door in the back of the room opened and entered Ms. Mills with a disciplinary look on her face. "Mr. Jones, the food. Outside." She went back into her office without another word.

He and Emma smirked at each other as they gathered up their food. They each had a bag as they chose a bench that was on the sidewalk, two doors from the center.

"So, before we were so rudely interrupted, find out something?"

"Actually yeah," she ate the fry in her hand. "I found this one paper, just looks like some historical article written in the 60s. Someone said they had found out that plot of land had been there since the 1600s, maybe even before. And that the house was built in 1890."

"Well this is good, we're getting closer. So why do you so down about it?"

"The man, spirit, ghost, whatever the hell I saw, wasn't in clothes from the 1890s."

She groaned at the thought of going through another file. Killian chuckled beside her and she had a feeling he'd probably make this not as terrible.

The blonde took a bite of her burger and looked at the people around her. She noticed a man that was shorter than others and was nearly yelling about his distaste for the owner of a store.

She raised her eyebrow at Killian, silently asking him who the hell that is?

"That's Leroy. He's a mechanic at the motor shop. Give him some food and a lager, he's usually fine. He has his little spats with everyone though," he said taking a sip from his drink.

Nodding, she went back to her food. Just then a dark hair woman, with an up-do and a long black coat walked past them.

"Miss. Mr. Jones," she said.

He simply nodded and grumbled a greeting to her.

"Not to fond of her I take it?"

"Mother Superior. I don't like the bloody wench," he said eating some of his burger. "Even in Sunday school when I was just a lad, I always got the wrong vibe from her. Looks at me like she knows when my death is or something."

"Maybe she does," Emma said cheekily.

He smirked at her with a huffy look on his face, while she smiled.

They were just finishing up their food when they saw a large man with curly brown hair, carrying a large burlap sack.

"Who's he?" Emma asked pointing him out.

"That's, Little John."

"'Little John'? Like the guy from Robin Hood?"

Killian walked over to the trash bin near by to throw away their garbage. "Aye. Now that I think of it, he is sort of outdoorsy kind. Lives in a small cottage out by the lake; usually only comes into town for ale or to sell his game."

Don't see many of those types in Boston, she thought.

She let out a big sigh, "Back to work then?"

"Don't sound so exasperated, lass. This isn't what I initially thought it would be but, we'll make it fun," he said with a cheeky smile while opening the door for her.

Sure enough, an hour later she saw him folding a blank piece of paper together.

"What are you doing?"

"Paper rugby," he said holding up a small paper triangle. "Ever play, Swan?"

"In high school. Except, we called it paper football."

Killian rolled his eyes and started muttering something about "bloody American's" and "you don't even kick the ball with your feet".

Emma giggled silently at his indignant attitude.

They decided the change up the game and picked aiming spots from around the room. Hitting a wall to the nearest object was two points and hitting the actual object was six points.

After playing for a few minutes, Emma realized having better nails was her key point. She hit nearly every target while Killian missed a few.

When he tried to get fancy with his flicking, the paper flung on Sidney's desk. He turned around to glare at them, while they giggled like kids in detention.

They smiled at each other before getting back to work.

Another two hours later, Emma thought she was going to fall asleep. Too much reading and not enough doing anything, makes Emma a dull girl.

She started unknowingly thumping her fingers on the table.

Killian sighed loudly, grabbed some blank paper from the printer behind him and started making paper balls.

"And what are you doing now?"

"Toad in the hole. Or the office version of it."

"What?" Emma asked with a confused look on her face.

He got up from the table and set up three different waste baskets on the other side of the room. Then he walked to the fan in the room, turned it on and put of the oscillating feature.

"Pub game. One usually plays it after a few drinks, but that's why I turned on the fan." he said walking back.

"To make it harder for us to get it in the baskets. Nice."

"Alright, three points for every basket you make. One point for hitting the rim. No points if you miss."

She nodded and the game started.

This game was one she wasn't as good at. Most of her's hit the rim or missed entirely. His mainly got in the basket or bounced off the rim.

She glared at him thinking she'd get him back once they play beer pong.

Where the hell did that come from and why is she thinking like she's going to see him longer than this week? She shook her head and finished the game.

The blonde slumped in her chair after losing the game. Killian snickered beside her while she pouted like a child.

"I'm usually a lot better at this. It's the damn fan."

"Sure, Swan. Keep telling yourself that," he said smiling childishly.

She rolled her eyes and they got back to reading.

"Oh, ew." She grimaced at a sheet of paper before placing it father away from her than necessary. "Apparently the house was a brothel when it was first built."

Killian laughed loudly at that, without moving his eyes from the paper he was reading. He soon grew serious at what was written out. "Eh, lass. You might want to see this."

Emma scooted her chair so she was right next to him, so close she could smell him. A faint musky, yet clean scene emanated from him. When he had held her the night before, she was far too busy freaking out to notice before; it was definitely a smell she found herself like far too much.

"What is it?"

"A historian, Maurice French, spent some time here. I guess he was fascinated by the property and chose to look into it. He found out that there was a castle located on the property in 1645. Owned by a King George."

"That would explain the clothes then. Anything else?"

Killian shook his head. "No, but this seems like the best information we've gotten from these files. And we've gone through nearly all of them."

She sighed loudly and slumped in her chair in defeat. Almost six hours of searching through files and nothing.

"We'll figure out something, Swan. Don't lose hope just yet."

Normally she'd ignore someone if they said that, but she chose to believe him. Her gut told her too.

"Why don't we head out of here? I had Mrs. O'Donnelly put on a stew if we didn't get back in time. Ever have an actual Irish corned beef and cabbage before?"

She shook her head no as they got up from the table cleaning up their mess.

"Well then, you're in for a real treat, love," he said smiling.

Emma chose not to focus on the nickname he called her this time.

* * *

**A/N: So sorry this took so long to get out! Thank you to everyone who followed and reviewed. My life got really crazy over the last month, but everything seems to be in working order now. I hope to get the next chapter out as soon as possible. Thank you for reading!**


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